Blacken Steel
by sharks r' us
Summary: A blast from the past throws the Capital Wasteland, and the Lone Wanderer, into a conflict that will decide the fate of a post-apocalyptic American landscape; divided by ideals, distance and tech.


A/N:Fallout 3 and New Vegas are copyrighted by Bethesda Softworks; as such I'm just enjoying the opportunity to play in the their sandbox until told otherwise, I own nothing

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The moon was slowly making it's ascension across the night sky, a light breeze moved a few stray tumbleweeds across the empty terrain. A large creature made its way along the ruined road sniffing the air as it continued to hunt down its next meal. The massive Deathclaw continued to survey its surroundings, ever alert for a quick bite. The beast paused next to trailer that sat on the side of the road, a mole rat carcass catching its attention. The apex predator dug into the fresh meat the large creature zoned out the rest of the world as it proceeded to feed. Standing to its full height a few minutes later, the Alpha Deathclaw, Swipper as Three Dog so cleverly named over the GNR broadcasts, swallowed the last of meat, blood dripping down from its mouth a feeling of satisfaction coursing through it. A loud noise in the distance caught its attention, the last thoughts it had were of the rat meat as an armor piercing .50 caliber bullet entered its skull violently slamming the abomination into the trailer. 1400 meters away lying prone in front of the LP8 Broadcast tower, the darken barrel of a Anti-material Rifle poked out of the overhang that had enough room for a person to squeeze into. Crawling out, the hunter gathered the rest of their equipment securing a rolled mat to the underside of a camouflaged rucksack; the large rifle was strapped to the left side the bipod supports tied to the barrel. Putting the rest of their supplies in their ruck, the figure glanced down at the their left arm where a faint green light glowed from a wrist mounted computer, a Pip-Boy showing them that it ten till midnight. A gust wind blew past them catching on the tail of the trench coat that they wore, a face covering hid most of their facial features with a unique Ushanka called the 'Hat of the People' resting on top. Carefully putting on the pack, they made their way down the slope towards the body of the Alpha Deathclaw aiming to loot the body of anything of value. The short hike down was uneventful compared to the other trips that they had made in the past, reaching the body within a few minutes and unmolested from the critters that roam the wastes at night. Reaching the kill, they pulled down the face cover exposing the tanned face of a youngish looking male face, some age lines starting to show along with a jagged scar running down the right side of his face. The gift from a deranged scrapper from Point Lookout, he shivered at the memory as a barrage of images threatens to overwhelm him every time he closed his eyes. Returning to the task at hand Kyle Olsen, the fabled Lone Wanderer, knelt in front of the monstrous creature that slaughtered the Republic of Dave and plagued the northern half of the Capital Wasteland for months. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he went about chopping the clawed hands off with his broad machete, a wonderful tool that he picked up from his trip to the Mojave, a gift from a close friend that ended the lives of countless scum that plagued the region. It took a few swings before the limbs were completely severed; he picked them up and strapped them to the right side with the claws facing down. Looking back at the body Kyle stared into the soulless, dead eyes of the Alpha then at the hole where his shot stuck. With a nod of his head, he drew back the blade and brought it violently against its neck fighting through the tough hide and muscle. Another two chops and the blade succeed in severing the head from its body. Picking it up, he tied it to the outside of his ruck, a grizzly trophy just to prove the kill. Standing back up, Kyle glanced about making sure that nothing was going to get the drop on him. Slipping his arms through the straps and reattaching the full face gas-mask that he acquired from his trip to The Pitt. With everything gathered, Kyle began to make his way south towards the general direction of Megaton, his first port of call before making his way further south to check in at the Citadel to drop off the junk that they asked of him to acquire.

It's been close to four years since the Enclave was routed at Adams Air Force base which netted the Capital Wasteland chapter of the Brotherhood of Steel advance weapons and armor. With the promise of clean, pure water made a reality the Brotherhood began to step up their efforts to protect the caravans from the "less desirable" residents that ran rampant through the area. With only the largest of the raider gangs could hope to provide a challenge for the Brotherhood, with the smaller ones hiding in the metro lines or squatting on the outskirts of the DC ruins, and with the Super Mutants on the run the raiders were the only challenge for them. A few hours passed as Kyle walked past the quiet settlement of Big Town, the fires from the barrels slightly distorted his vision. He noticed a pair of pack brahmin chewing on something on the other side of the bridge, but pushed it from his mind as pushed on towards his destination. Kyle paused looking back at the way he came, spotting the giant fat boy statue being reflected in the moonlight. A sneer slowly forming on his face at one of the many reminders of the Wasteland's darker side. The death dealt that day was one that he refused to acknowledge to anyone, friend or not, the heat from the fires continue to haunt his every waking moment. Rolling his shoulders to readjust his packs weight, Kyle slowly restarted his trek south again, a cold chill went down his spin as he continued on his way. The sun was starting to break the horizon as he passed the collapsed wing of the Springfield Elementary School with the metal walls of Megaton rising above the hills in the distance, the familiar sight of rusted steel and tin put a smile on his face. Reaching the gates he could feel the rays from the sun warming his exposed neck as the salvaged aircraft engines fired up allowing the sheet metal that acted as the front gate to the large settlement.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" A deep voice asked from his right, "And what the blazes do you have there?" Turning towards the source, Kyle couldn't help but chuckled at the shocked expression that graced the face of the normally level-headed sheriff of Megaton, Lucas Simms, and glanced down at the severed head of Swipper, blood still dripping from the wound.

"Um, er, well I think that I was looking in to cashing the bounty on this critter." Kyle replied removing his head gear to savor the feeling of the sun on his tanned skin.

"I get that, but why did you bring it with you all the way from where ever you got it from?" A cocked eyebrow was all that needed to be said in response. "Heh, fair enough kid, before you get to settled in you might want to head over to Moriarty's, there are a couple of young ladies that say they need to speak to you." Nodding in reply he made his towards his house, wondering just who could be asking for him.

Leaning on the railing in front of the saloon using the glare of the sun to hide her form from the settlement's inhabitants. The breeze catching the tips of her shoulder length blonde hair, her bangs touching the rim of the sunglasses she wore to hide her sky blue eyes. The leather jacket she wore was opened exposing the form-fitting white shirt underneath, stained from her own adventures in the Wastes further west, a large silver coin rolled over her knuckles continuously . Looking towards the entrance, she spotted her person of interest strolling in wearing close to the exact outfit that he wore upon heading back east, a small smile slowly worked its away onto her face.

"Well now, my hero returns," She softly spoke to herself turning back towards the saloon, "I hope you're ready for a blast from the past baby doll, because things just reached a new on the fucked scale."


End file.
